


An Unexpected Present

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deception, Discussion of mpreg, Established Relationship, If You Squint - Freeform, Little bit of Christmas-talk, M/M, Not between Peter and Stiles, Pregnant Peter, Sort of for the December monthly prompt, They pick up other people on occasion, little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: Peter and Stiles enjoy having an occasional guest in their bed. However, the right time of year and the right company leaves Peter expecting a baby.If you're concerned about the "deception" tag, please see the end notes.





	An Unexpected Present

Peter untangles himself from the sleeping octopus known as Stiles. It’s early, way too early to be up, but he’s far past sleep. He gets up long enough to use the bathroom and turn on the heat so the house will be warm when Stiles finally wakes up.

He turns the lights on the small Christmas tree sitting on their bedroom dresser, one of many in their apartment. The lights aren’t too bright and won’t wake Stiles up and since he insisted on as many trees and lights as possible, he’ll welcome waking up to it.

Stiles snuggles back against him, and Peter pulls him close, both wolf and man content with their chosen partner. They got together after Stiles graduated from high school and moved to DC, with Peter following a month or so later. Stiles didn’t bother to act surprised and his scent was what Peter remembered – vanilla, jasmine and that smell after a thunderstorm. Stiles just let him in his tiny room, where they fell into bed and stayed together since then. Peter quickly moved them into a nicer apartment and that’s where Stiles finished college and officially started his FBI training.

They had one discussion about marriage and agreed that they wouldn’t really gain anything from it. At this point, Stiles doesn’t really have an income to tax, Peter pays his health insurance and Stiles is the sole beneficiary on Peter’s will. And it’s been proven that if one is in the hospital (that would be Stiles) there’s nothing that will keep the other out.

Peter hasn’t brought up the werewolf version of marriage, a mating ceremony. It could be as elaborate or quiet as the parties want, ending with exchanging a mating bite. Someday, maybe, but now it isn’t critical.

They’re together in every way possible, secure in their relationship. So secure, in fact, that they’ll occasionally bring a third into their bed. Not often, maybe once or twice a year, if there’s something about someone that clicks for both of them.

The last time was a couple of months ago, Halloween in DC at their favorite club. They’d gone out only intending to drink a bit and grind on each other to the too loud music. That was well underway when Peter sees an attractive man watching them and when he notices Peter noticing, he grins and winds his way over to them. Stiles tilts his head back, letting Peter mouth at his neck, when the man moves flush behind him, hands on Stiles’ waist, fingers brushing Peter’s as they move under Stiles’ shirt.

He’s a wolf. Peter didn’t notice him when he came in and maybe the man came in after them – after all, he was paying more attention to his mate than to anyone else.

Peter flashes his blue eyes at the man who chuckles and flashes back his yellow eyes. They don’t do much talking while there, trading names and confirming that Tony is welcome to join them, at least, so far, on the dance floor.

Normally, he wouldn’t want another wolf around Stiles, and maybe it’s the fact he’s a bitten wolf but Peter’s wolf finds him harmless and attractive. Peter wasn’t sure it was going to happen; someone joining them needs to be a mutual decision. But when Stiles watches them kiss over his shoulder and whispers in Peter’s ear, “Let’s wreck him,” it’s something that apparently has to happen.

Of course, with two werewolves in their bed, it’s Stiles who ends up wrecked and Peter loves it. Peter loves watching him come until he’s sated and beautiful and drowsy in their bed. Peter thinks back to earlier in their evening, Stiles’ head over the side of the bed so he can swallow more of Peter’s cock, while his legs are wrapped around Tony’s waist as the other werewolf fucks him.

And after Stiles is exhausted, he watches through half-closed eyes as Peter and Tony continue until they’re exhausted as well. They fall asleep glued together with sweat, lube and come.

Like any good hook-up, Tony is gone in the morning. He left his phone number written on a piece of paper towel in the kitchen. It’s in a drawer somewhere, along with a couple of other numbers they’ve collected. Just in case a repeat is needed.

Good memory. Of course now it’s six weeks later and sometime soon Peter’s going to have to have a little conversation with Stiles about three magical beings (and even though Tony is bitten and not born, a bitten werewolf is as magical as a born one) having sex on Samain and how in some instances it can lead to a pregnancy. A magical pregnancy of course, because magic doesn’t care about gender, and what else would you expect?

This is where it gets worrisome and Peter feels his wolf rumbling in his brain and in his chest, unable to settle. Because they don’t have an official mate bond and they’re not married and Stiles is 24 and probably not planning on having a child before he’s 25. It’s been okay until now, truly, their bond is stronger than anything created by that bite over the heart, but there’s still the thought that maybe he’s not ready to have a child or to be a father. Or to be a father with Peter.

And there’s always that annoying possibility the child Peter’s growing inside him isn’t even Stiles’ at all. After all, it takes three, that’s kind of the idea. He might be fine with it or at least no more upset about whose child than the fact there’s going to be a child. It’s not like Peter needs to even tell him, necessarily; green eyes run in the Hale family (in fact his blue eyes are unusual) so even with Tony’s eyes…

“What’s wrong, Peter?”

Peter looks over and Stiles hasn’t even opened his eyes. But his heart has the familiar early morning beat when he’s coming out of sleep. “Nothing. It’s early, go back to sleep.”

He snorts and cracks open one eye, looking at Peter up and down. “Can’t sleep with you thinking so loud. Tell me what’s up,” he orders, rubbing Peter’s stomach to show he’s not upset. Which is just so weird when Peter thinks about it.

“Later, when we’re both more awake.”

“You’re very awake and I’m almost awake. You already got up and plugged my tree in.” Stiles glances over his shoulder and then rolls back onto Peter, smiling against his chest. “Thank you. Do you think we can keep up some of the lights? Maybe like wrap some around the drapes or something?”

“I suppose we can do something,” Peter says. He’s glad to talk about what Stiles wants and put off the necessary conversation some more. “We don’t want to get in the way of the drapes, so maybe nailed around them or something?”

“Sounds good, I knew you’d find a creative solution. So thanks for that and now, what the fuck is up with you? You’ve been testy even for you – and it’s not the full moon for at least a week. Talk with me, wolf.”

Peter shoots out a long sigh and tries to think how to start this conversation. “I’m a werewolf; a magical creature, different than regular humans.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. And?”

He resists the temptation to smack Stiles in the head. Such discipline. “You are magic, too, of course. Even though you haven’t worked as much lately to develop your skills, you will always have your magical spark.”

“Okay, thanks, I’m all caught up. And?”

“And while we don’t really celebrate it, Samain was a couple of months ago.”

“Riiiight, October 31, just like always. The beginning of winter. And?”

“Yes, it’s the end of the harvest, the beginning of winter. A festival for endings and new beginnings. The celebration of the dead and rebirth,” Peter lectures as his mother told him and Talia a long time ago.

Stiles sits up a bit, leaning on his elbow. “Is someone dead? Is that where this is going?”

“No, not at all, actually. It’s more the rebirth part.”

“Good god, who the fuck is back from the dead now?” he asks, slumping back down on the bed.

“No one that I know of. Okay, umm. So on Samain, that was the night we picked up Tony and had our own little festival,” Peter says, trying to turn this into the conversation they should have.

Stiles gets those lines between his eyebrows he gets when he’s worried. “Right. Regrets?”

“No, not at all.” Peter takes another breath and says, “So magical creatures – including Tony – and Samain and those things together with whatever else we have – or you have – or coming back from the dead does – but I am going to have a magic baby.”

Stiles face goes from worried to blank in a second. “Seriously? You’re kidding, right? Because no one is _that_ magic.”

“You forget the part about werewolves and mages and people who can come back from the dead? Creating a baby isn’t all that much more difficult.” Peter checks and Stiles’ scent is confused and worried and curious and interested and there’s nothing angry or disappointed. Not yet at least.

“Like you and me are going to have a baby? Like a little drooling baby that’s going to depend on us and call us Daddy or something?” he finally asks and there’s the start of a grin on his face.

Peter feels something loosen in his chest and his wolf slumps to the ground, with a happy rumble. “Yes, I think you’ve summarized it pretty well. Magic people and magic baby growing in my brand-new magic uterus.”

“Wow, that’s just… wow.” Stiles pulls himself on top of Peter and kisses him, morning breath be damned. “You and your magic uterus. And me and my magic sperm, I guess. So how far along? Oh you said it was back on Halloween when we…”

Peter stays quiet and feels Stiles tense although he doesn’t move. “Yes. Halloween or Samain. So the baby’s about six weeks old.”

“And there’s a chance it’s not really mine, right? Not genetically, not actually my DNA,” Stiles says and sits up, sitting cross legged on the bed facing Peter. “You’ve thought of that, of course. That it might not be mine.”

“I’m keeping him,” Peter says quickly. He didn’t realize how much he wants this until now and has to keep his fists clenched, nails cutting into his palms. “I’m not getting rid of him, Stiles. I want to be with you, to raise him together, as ours, but if you don’t want to do that…”

“Oh, god, don’t say that.” Stiles moves back on him, forehead to forehead and says, “Of course I want to be with you and if you want it, then I’m here. We’re here and us and this is… freaking weird, but good weird, you know? We can do this.”

Peter sighs again, rolling Stiles underneath him, pushing his face into his boy’s throat, breathing in the calming scent. “Yes, we can do this. It’s strange, and maybe it’s just I’ve had more time to adjust, but, yes and I’m glad you want to be part of it.”

“Yes,” he answers, turning his head to kiss Peter’s temple. “Oh god, was I crushing you before? Or crushing the baby? Is it okay? Did I hurt you?”

Chuckling, Peter rolls off him so they’re next to each other. “He’s fine and he’s the size of a peanut or something. You really don’t stand a chance of hurting either of us.”

“He? Do you know that or?”

Peter shrugs and says, “I got past calling him ‘it’ a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know that it’s a he versus a she. I just know he’s not an it.”

“Sure,” Stiles says nodding, eyes lighting up. “Oh god, you’re going to get a big belly, right? Are you going to get big tits, too?”

With a sigh and eye roll, Peter answers, “I’ll get a belly, it’s where the baby grows. I hope to keep to the actual recommended weight gain. And I suppose I’ll get a bit big everywhere, that kind of happens.”

“How does it get out of there?” Stiles asks suddenly and now there’s the smell of concern coming off him again.

“Cesarean, of course,” Peter assures him, kissing Stiles quickly. “What did you think, I was going to poop it out?”

“I don’t know, I’m not really sure how magic babies work. And I’m really looking forward to your good mood for the next eight or whatever months.” He shrugs and says, “I guess we need to find you a magic OB/GYN?”

“Probably just a magic OB. Baby or not, I don’t really have the parts for a GYN. And female werewolves have an eight month gestation, so I’m assuming that’s what I’ll have.” He pushes himself up so his back is against the headboard, fluffing his pillow before he settles again.

Stiles joins him, punching his pillow into shape and sitting next to Peter. “Okay, makes sense. So are there werewolf OBs or something? How do we find one?” He pauses and turns to Peter, saying, “Please do not tell me you have to see Deaton.”

Peter snorts and takes Stiles’ hand. “Hell no, not if he were the last doctor on earth. I’d do it myself. Or have you do it.” He takes a breath, still working on calming himself, so happy he chose this man when he had the chance. “I have some contacts, I’m sure I can find one in New York, at least to start.”

“There’s got to be a pack here. There’s a lot of people and Tony would be in a pack, right? If there’s a pack, there’s probably babies, and if there’s babies, there’s probably an OB.”

“I’d prefer someone who isn’t around here,” Peter answers, checking Stiles’ scent. “I ask around, they talk and it gets back to Tony. I’d prefer not to do that.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow, turning to Peter. “Not even going to let him know there’s a possibility?”

“No. This is our baby and I don’t want any… confusion. Or problems. We keep this between us and keep Tony and his pack out of it.”

Now Stiles’ scent turns anxious, which matches his eyes searching Peter’s face. “Why would there be a problem? You’re thinking Tony might what? Want DNA testing or something? Try to get joint custody or something if it is…”

“He wouldn’t have to do anything, his pack could make a claim. If the child is biologically his, they could make a challenge to take custody.” Peter shrugs and squeezes Stiles’ hand. “There’s a stable pack here. Our pack is on the other side of the country. We aren’t mated or married, so they could say the can give the child a more stable life.”

“That is bullshit, Peter, that is complete and total bullshit. Our pack is so stable that we _can_ live here and see them every couple of months.” For the first time, he looks and smells worried, and a bit insecure. “I mean Derek could fight them if it ever comes to that. And…and… I mean you and I, we could get married. Or mated, or whatever would keep the pup safe, right? I always figured we would someday, right? Didn’t you?” He sits back, looking at their joined hands and sighs. “I thought we’d do that. I know my dad wouldn’t want his first grandchild to not have two married dads. Not that I’m thinking there’s a second or anything, we have to get through the first, right, and…”

Peter pulls him close, kissing him until they’re both out of breath. He sighs in relief, face buried in the nice sleepy-sweaty place where his neck and shoulders meet and takes a nip, making Stiles shudder. “That would certainly protect us. And yes, I was hoping someday we might do something official. I just wasn’t totally sure you’d want to. Either at all or with me.”

“How could you have a doubt? After all this time, don’t you know I’m totally down with you? Only you? Sure you used to be a psycho killer, but you haven’t killed anyone in a while, right? Even my dad likes you!”

“Your father tolerates me because you told him he has to,” Peter corrects him. Sweet boy, acknowledging he hasn’t killed anyone in a while. “But yes. Since I’m going to say this is you proposing to me, yes, Stiles, I will marry you.”

For a minute they both just sit and grin at each other like a couple of idiots.

Stiles sniffs and wipes his eyes, nodding and surges forward to kiss Peter again. “Good, cool. We’ll need rings, you have the money, so you’re paying for them, but I get veto power because you’re gaudy. And we should have the ceremony back home with the pack. The whole traditional pack mating thing, with marriage included. Gotta please the feds, you know.”

He kisses Peter again, scent bright and full of the ozone smell Peter loves. He smells wild, like pack and like a wolf. “We have some time, I think. We’ll figure out when and how so it doesn’t interrupt your training.”

“Okay. God, I’ll need to do some research on ceremonies. I don’t think I’ve read anything on them, especially since Scott and Kira decided to do just a plain old human wedding. The idiots.” He looks longingly at his laptop, sitting on the dresser next to their bedroom Christmas tree.

“I’m a little surprised you don’t know that,” Peter says, turning Stiles’ head back to him. “Kind of slacking for an emissary, aren’t you?”

“Hey, I can research that in a day. And in the meantime, I can tell you the difference between an arterial blood splatter pattern and a femoral blood splatter pattern. And if someone was walking and dripping blood or standing and dripping blood. And…”

Peter holds a hand up in surrender. “Different things for different times.” He checks his watch and brushes his hair back with his hands, which does very little for his bedhead. “We may as well get up, I don’t think we’re going back to sleep now. I’ll make coffee and we can figure out breakfast.”

Stiles gets out of bed first, pushing him back down. “Nope, you stay here. I’ll make you breakfast in bed, nothing too good for my baby-daddy.” He looks at Peter, eyes narrowed. “Coffee? Is that good for you and the baby?”

“A cup of coffee won’t hurt either of us, Stiles. Werewolf, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Stiles gives him an over-the-top leer. “So you get to stay in bed and first, I’ll get you coffee and breakfast in bed. Then when that’s done, I can sit on your face and you can eat me and then I can ride you to celebrate the baby.”

“Sounds like I’m still doing a lot of work this morning,” Peter answers, grinning and scenting the happiness and whiff of lust coming off his mate.

“No, not at all. You’re just going to lie there and I’ll do all the work,” he answers, turning to the doorway. He stops and comes back to the bed, so they can exchange one last, slow kiss. “Just think, next year at this time, we’re going to have a kid and little ornaments with “baby’s first Christmas” and little Christmas outfits and pictures with Santy Claus and…”

Peter shuts him up with another kiss and swat on the rump. “Yes, my heart, all those things. But let’s get through this holiday first.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles walks down the hall and Peter slides lower under the covers listening to his mate ramble about all the things they need to do over the coming months. This will be a Christmas to remember.

  

**Author's Note:**

> There's a possibility that Tony got Peter pregnant and not Stiles. Peter decides not to tell Tony in case it would cause problems. That, and he's Peter. 
> 
> Oh, and I took a bit of liberty with Samhain/Samain, which is a bit more ending than beginnings, but it was as kinda close so I used it.


End file.
